The Back Room
by katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is sick of her job at a large chain office supply store. The hours are crap. The pay isn't worth the hassle. And the employees who work the logistics really get on her nerves. Especially their endlessly cheerful team lead. Originally written March 2015.


"Hear ye, hear ye! Let it be known that the second Forklift Joust Tournament is about to begin!" A deep voice booms through the back room as Katniss makes her way towards the sales floor. She rolls her eyes, spotting the group of back-enders, er…Logistics Crew, gathered around a pile of boxes. They cheer, raising their fists in the air. On top of the boxes stands a young man with ridiculous blond curls and an even more ridiculous smile. Peeta Mellark, their team lead.

She hates this job. And she hates the boisterous, carefree attitude of these numb-skulls who get to spend most of their days in the back rooms and not dealing with customers. She hates dealing with customers, too. Did she mention that already? Because she does.

"The rules!" Peeta shouts, the sound echoing off the steel rafters and quieting the crowd around him. For a moment, his eyes meet hers and she thinks she sees him wink at her. With one last roll of her eyes, Katniss shoves the door to the sales floor open and plasters a smile on her face. The sounds of laughter and his excited voice cut off the second the door slams shut behind her.

Pressing the ear bud for her radio set into her ear and clipping the transmission pack to her belt, she prepares for yet another day of dealing with cranky customers and overzealous bargain hunters who take the words "Price Match" to a scary new level of crazy.

Her morning goes as expected, and by the time she gets to take a lunch break, her cheeks hurt from the fake smiling, and her feet and back are sore. As if that wasn't bad enough, apparently a bunch of the "logistics" people are also taking their breaks, still guffawing over whatever happened in this morning's Forklift Jousting Tournament.

"Real mature," she grumbles to herself as she pulls her lunch from the fridge and settles at the far end of the table to eat.

Gradually, the back-end staff thins out, leaving her alone in the room with Peeta, his blond hair, and his smile that still lingers after his team mates are long gone.

Not that she's looking, or anything. Why would she be looking?

When he looks up at her abruptly, Katniss drops her eyes back down to her pathetic lunch of leftover spaghetti and stale breadsticks from Olive Garden.

A few minutes later, he stands, tossing the trash from his lunch into the bin and calling out a friendly, "Have a nice day," to her. With her mouth full of food, she gives him a tight lipped smile and he chuckles lightly before leaving.

"Asshole," she mutters around her food.

* * *

"Hey, Katniss, right? You on your lunch break?"

Katniss looks up from her wings and scowls. She does not want to socialize with anyone from work while she's eating. This _is_ her break. As in, time away from her job. Obviously, she needs to pick a restaurant a little further away next time.

"Nope," she says to Peeta with a strained smile. "I'm still on the clock and wasting the company's money."

He chuckles and bounces on his toes a little. Her eyes dip and take in his jeans and the t-shirt for a band she doesn't recognize. The sleeves stretch over his arm muscles when he shoves his hands in his pockets. But his attire tells her that he's not working today. No big surprise there. Unless the store is insanely busy, the logistics crew mainly works Tuesdays and Thursdays when the trucks arrive with new stock.

"Sorry, dumb question. I'll leave you to your lunch. See you around, Katniss."

As he walks off towards a table with a few of their coworkers and a couple people she doesn't recognize, she tries not to notice the fit of his jeans.

"Ass," she mutters into her tea before she gulps it down to moisten her suddenly parched throat.

* * *

"Motherfucking piece of shit!" Katniss grunts as she tugs on the box of ink cartridges. It's caught on something and she's about had it for the day. The metal stairs shake beneath her and she looks down, groaning at the sight of Peeta clambering up the stairs towards her.

"I don't think these things can hold two people," she snaps as he reaches her. He just laughs lightly, extending his arms over the upper shelves and retrieving the box for her. The ease with which he lifts the thing, hefting it onto his shoulder before turning to descend, infuriates her.

"I've carried safes up these things before. I think we'll be okay," his voice floats back up to her. She bites back a snappy retort and follows him, gripping the railing as the thing shifts under her footsteps. Give her a good, solid tree any day. These rickety metal stairs on wheels are an accident waiting to happen.

When she reaches the bottom, Peeta is waiting for her, a grin on his face. "Where do you need this, milady?"

Katniss scoffs and reaches to take the box from him, but he steps back, almost demanding an answer from her. Her scowl deepens.

"I can take care of it myself, thanks. And I'm not your lady. Save your silly pet names for your forklift damsels."

Peeta laughs and shifts the box on his shoulder, solidifying his hold. "This is part of my job," he says by way of explanation. "You can call any of my crew whenever you need something up top. And if you aren't busy next time we joust, maybe you want to give it a try?"

Her cheeks begin to heat and she isn't sure why. His words aren't all _that_ suggestive… Are they? Maybe it's the low cadences of his voice. Whatever, he's an ass.

She turns, her braid whipping over her shoulder and commands him to follow her to the electronics section. And she does _not_ sway her hips. Not at all.

* * *

Biting the inside of her cheek, Katniss tries not to lose her patience. She hates August. Did she mention that she hates August? Because she does. Always the same. School supply shopping.

"This box has no blue crayon in it. How is my son supposed to do his work with no blue crayon?"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am. That box is from our five cent bin. Which usually means the products may not meet such stringent standards. You could probably find a different box that does have a blue crayon in it." She'll likely get fired for this, but she doesn't care anymore. She's been here for six hours and already, this is the fourth customer to get pissed over the five cent school supplies being slightly less than perfect.

"He can't color a sky without a blue crayon! How dare you make my son live in a world where he can't draw a blue sky!"

Katniss swallows some choice comments about getting what you pay for and maybe she should let her son color a purple sky instead, but she's already too close to screaming. When she seriously considers telling the lady to search the floor for a stray nickel and just buy a second box, she knows she needs to call for manager intervention.

"Ma'am, I can hold your items here while you look for another box of crayons," she says instead, eyeing the rapidly growing line and the angry faces on the customers behind the irate woman. Great. Just what she needs.

"Excuse me," a calm voice interjects, cutting the woman off mid rant. Katniss glares up at Peeta. What the hell does he think he's doing? "If it's alright with you, ma'am. This box has a blue crayon. We can exchange it for the other box, if you'd like."

"Oh," the woman says, her face twisting in confusion. "Um, yes. That will be fine."

Once the boxes are exchanged and Katniss reassures her several times that the crayons will still only be five cents, the lady finally leaves and Katniss is able to finish checking out her line before returning where she belongs, in electronics, dealing with a much smaller number of people.

As she's clocking out for her break, she catches sight of Peeta doling out tasks to his team and groans inwardly. What annoys her most is how easily he defused the situation when he rarely has to deal with customers. When the logistics crew members scurry to complete their tasks, she approaches quietly.

"Um, thanks," she says awkwardly. Peeta looks at her a moment, confusion etching his face in lines. "For helping out with that lady. I was about to lose my cool with her."

"Oh," he says, his face relaxing into a smile. "No problem." Then he steps closer and lowers his head to whisper conspiratorially with her. "The box I gave her may have had two green crayons and no yellow, though. So her son may have to settle for an orange sun in that blue sky."

Katniss snorts in laughter and covers her nose, embarrassed. But Peeta's smile only widens as he shifts his weight from one foot to another.

"Hey, Katniss. Uh, there's a group of us getting together to grab a drink after work today, over at Ripper's. You interested in joining us?"

She should say "no." It isn't her scene. And she hates this job and her coworkers. And him, too…doesn't she? But this close, she can see how blue his eyes are, flecked with soft gold. He's never been anything but kind to her, despite how prickly she can sometimes be. And he's got dimples.

"Sure," she hears herself say.

"Great. See you around nine, then?" When she nods in answer, he walks away, leaving her insides quivering in something that is certainly not interest. Nope. Not one bit.

"Asshole," she whispers, but the word has lost its bite.

* * *

When Katniss reaches Ripper's, there's already a crowd of people from work gathered around the bar. She hardly knows any of them, and tugs on her plain green shirt, feeling out of place and under dressed in her jeans and ratty Converse she's had since high school. But then Peeta spots her and lights up like the sun.

He eagerly waves her over to where he stands, chatting amiably with one of the girls who works in the copy and print section.

"Hey, Katniss," he says with a warm smile as she walks up to them. She feels the warmth of that smile down to her toes, and she isn't sure if she likes it. "Glad you could make it. Do you know Lavinia? She's our resident mass fax and oversized print jobs expert."

Lavinia chuckles and tosses her silky curtain of red hair over her shoulder. "You make it sound so professional, Peeta."

"I know who she is," Katniss says and cringes inwardly at how awkward she sounds with Lavinia standing right there in her four inch heels, painted on jeans, and crop top. He smiles and turns to flag down the bartender before asking Katniss what she's drinking. She isn't a huge beer fan, but she really can't afford much else. Especially since it isn't Happy Hour tonight, but it is $2 bottled beers. She quietly tells him she'll have a Budweiser and he gives her strange look, but places her drink order anyway.

"What?" she asks, a bite to her tone.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug. "I just didn't figure you for a mass brew drinker."

"You thought I'd be a beer snob?" she says as her drink arrives and she swallows a mouthful of the bitter liquid, fighting and failing to keep the grimace from her face. Peeta laughs quietly, his shaking shoulders giving him away more than any noise that might leave his lips. She can't hear his laugh over the noise of the bar, but she wishes she could. The thought makes her take another quick drink.

"No," he finally says when she's able to meet his blue eyes once more. "I figured you for a hard liquor kind of girl."

She is. But she can't afford that kind of drink in a bar. Not on her paycheck. And she's not about to admit that to Peeta.

Instead, she shrugs and fiddles with the end of her braid, looking askance at the dark drink in his hand. "Well, what are you drinking?"

He smiles and shifts, putting more space between himself and Lavinia. If Katniss wanted to, there's now enough room for Katniss to lean against the bar next to him, elbows brushing, and cutting Lavinia out of his line of sight. She stays right where she is.

As he opens his mouth to answer, Lavinia speaks again. "You were telling me about your other job, Peeta."

His eyes dart between Katniss and Lavinia. Thinking she must have interrupted something, Katniss excuses herself and takes her beer and her annoyance away from Peeta and Lavinia's flirtatious smile.

Coming here tonight was a bad idea. A very bad idea, she decides as she settles in front of a TV broadcasting a soccer game she doesn't actually care about. She'll just finish her beer, have some stale pretzels and then take herself home. She's got her phone out, smiling at a text from Prim when someone drops unceremoniously into the seat beside her.

"Jack and Coke," a now familiar deep voice says. She looks up and finds Peeta, smiling at her, a glass of water now in his hand.

"Huh?"

"You asked what I was drinking."

"Oh," she says, looking back down to finish her answer to Prim. She hits _Send_ and then pockets her phone. "You didn't really ditch Tits-vinia just to answer my question, did you?"

Peeta laughs and her face burns in humiliation. Did she say that _out loud_? Katniss is wishing for a hole to open and swallow her whole when Peeta runs a hand through his hair, disheveling his curls a little and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at how adorable the gesture looks.

"No, I came over here to ask you a favor," he says with an earnest smile.

"Well now you're crossing lines. I barely know you and you're asking for my favors. You haven't even forklift jousted in my name."

Oh god. What. Is. Wrong. With. Her?!

Before she can panic and run, he lightly places a hand on her arm, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

"Well that's because you seem like a girl who'd rather joust in her own name. But I promise, next time, I'll joust in your name if you do this favor for me. Unless I'm right about you, in which case, I can drive as your steed."

She shrugs and takes a long drink, looking away and ignoring the warmth spreading under her skin where his heated fingers rest on her arm.

"Depends on the favor."

"My usual partner for foosball is absent tonight. Would you be willing to fill in?"

Leaning towards him, Katniss grins, a buzz racing through her veins. "I take foosball very seriously, Mellark."

"Good," he answers as his smile deepens, bringing out his dimples. "So do I, Everdeen."

When they reach the table, Peeta shakes hands with the other team and Katniss follows suit. They tease him, claiming Johanna ditched him for better game, and while Katniss doesn't understand the jokes, she appreciates it when Peeta waves for her to choose which position she wants. His gesture makes her feel like less of an outsider. She steps up to offense and he smiles.

"Perfect. I was always better at defense anyways."

Within a few minutes, their opponents are cursing and groaning. Katniss laughs as Peeta blocks yet another of their shots, setting her up to sink it. Their spirited shouts and trash talk have gathered a small crowd. Usually, Katniss hates scrutiny, but she's too busy caught up in Peeta's ribbing of Cato and Marvel, and blushing at his cheerleading every time she scores, she doesn't care who's watching her right now.

Their arms brush as they work the table, and she's feeling giddy and high on the fun of it when she scores her tenth shot and Cato slams his palms on the edge of the table, cursing loudly.

Peeta whoops and wraps her in a hug, lifting her off her feet. Her arms automatically go around him as she laughs. Her head spins and she wonders why two beers are having such a profound effect on her.

"Hold on," he says when he puts her back on her feet. "I gotta apologize to Jo. Let her know she's gonna need to find a new partner. Because you are on fire and I'm not letting you go!"

Katniss laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear. "You mean _we_ were on fire."

He looks up from his phone, a hopeful smile spreading across his lips. "Yeah?"

With a smile and a giddy laugh, Katniss nods. They seal their foosball alliance over another couple rounds of drinks, and by the time Peeta calls a cab for them to share, her cheeks and belly are sore from laughing with him.

* * *

"You alright, Katniss?" her manager asks and she swallows back a stuttering response. "You look flushed. You aren't getting sick are you?"

"No, I'll be fine," she says in a rush, averting her eyes from the sight of Peeta bending over one of the desks on the floor display as he assembles it.

Looking away does nothing to erase the image of his pants stretched tight over his ass or of the bulge and flex of his arms as he turned the screwdriver.

* * *

Fighting back tears, Katniss clocks out and makes her way towards the back docks and the employee parking lot. What an awful day. Her back aches. She had to smile politely while some old lady lectured her about her civic duty to be married and have children after the woman had noticed an absence of a ring on her left hand. She skipped lunch and scarfed down a package of trail mix, but still got yelled at for one of her employees messing up a transaction that cost the store a couple hundred dollars.

Then some young hotshot businessman kept making backhand comments about the state of the job market and how sad it is that so many millennials still live at home. Fuckwit. It took all her self-control to keep from kicking him in the nuts.

Why are people so damn rude? Katniss is tired of being told what her life should be like. This wasn't part of her plan, anyway. This job was only a stepping stone to the one she really wanted but couldn't get right out of college. Stupid economy collapse.

She shoves the back door open and jumps at the whoops and laughter that greet her. Eyes wide, she watches a few of the logistics crew, wielding hammers and smashing what appears to be a massive printer/copier to bits. Peeta notices her almost immediately and gives her a smile.

"Hey, Katniss," he says as he walks up to her, hands shoved in the pockets of his work khakis.

"Hey," she manages and then finally gets the question out. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

"Our job," he answers with a casual shrug and a wicked grin. "Also known as destruction."

Destruction.

She's always wondered. About once a month, corporate will send out a list of products to be destroyed. Not put on clearance, not whisked away in secret by needy employees, but flat out destroyed. She'd thought it was stupid and always delegated the task of locating the items to be handed over to the logistics crews, but she'd never known exactly how the items met their end.

Now as she watches a hulking boy make slivers out of the printer, she can't help but grin. It looks…freeing.

"Want a turn?" Peeta asks beside her. She looks over and sees it in his eyes. Not pity, but understanding.

"Yeah," she croaks out. "Easier to destroy things than make them, so how can I screw it up, right?"

"That's the spirit," Peeta grins. "Thresh! Miss Katniss Everdeen of electronics would like a go."

Thresh halts mid swing and turns, handing the hammer and his safety goggles to Peeta, who presents them to Katniss with a flourish.

"My lady. Your weapon of destruction."

Katniss hefts the hammer and palms the shaft as she approaches the already mostly decimated printer. When she lifts it and brings it down with a resounding crack of plastic, the logistics crew cheers. After a few more swings, they're chanting her name and she's laughing.

* * *

Peeta's just coming into work as she leaves on Thursday. When he smiles and greets her, she easily returns the gesture.

"Little late to be starting, isn't it?" she asks and he absently ruffles his blond curls, unaware of the effect it has on Katniss's ability to breathe.

"Nah, we're completely rearranging the floor layout tonight. Someone in management decided it wasn't conducive to positive energy flow." She laughs at his tone and the look on his face that tells her exactly what he thinks of that idea. "On the bright side, we're getting paid time and a half."

Katniss wishes him luck with the feng shui and Peeta laughs, telling her he'll probably still be here when she gets in for her shift in the morning. It isn't until she's home and sitting in bed catching up on her shows that she realizes that he knows her schedule. At first, it freaks her out. Then she remembers chatting to him about their work hours while they ate lunch together earlier that week, and she relaxes.

Later, as she's watching _Hart of Dixie_ , her thoughts stray back to Peeta and all the lifting and bending and flexing he must be doing right now…is it hot in her room? She tries to focus on the show, lest she miss important plot points. Madge will pester her if she doesn't catch up on this show soon. Her friend is the only reason she watches it…that and Wilson Bethel is kind of hot. But it's no use.

That asshole, Peeta, has crept into her down time.

Turning off the TV, Katniss goes into the kitchen and stares at the contents of her pantry, trying to decide if she wants something sweet or salty or spicy. Definitely salty. No, spicy.

She whips up a Frito pie with her leftover chili, and once the dishes are cleared, groans because the food did nothing to distract her from the insistent ache between her thighs. She tries a few crunches. No good. Now she's wondering if Peeta's got washboard abs to go with his Captain America arms.

Once she's finally settled for bed, she tosses and turns and eventually, she caves.

It's perfectly acceptable for her to lust after an attractive coworker, she tells herself as she slips her hand into her panties. Perfectly normal to be thinking about his scrumptious ass as she draws her finger through her juices. And maybe it's pushing it, but she tells herself it's perfectly fine to be thinking of his lips on her, moaning into her core and licking up every last drop as she makes herself fall apart.

* * *

Getting out of her car, Katniss squints at the handful of employees sprawled on the back loading dock. A few lay on their stomachs, a couple sit cross legged, and it isn't until she's on the dock itself that she can see what they're doing.

"What is this? Arts and crafts?" she asks a little harshly, still unnerved by her alone time last night. Peeta's blond head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and is that a blush she sees spreading across his cheeks?

"No," he says with a light chuckle. "This is more destruction."

Katniss's eyes sweep over the printer paper spread out in front of the crew. Today, it isn't just the logistics crew. She sees Johanna Mason, one of the cashiers, viciously taking a pair of scissors to a piece of printer paper.

"What was wrong with the paper?" Katniss asks, trying not to peek at the sheaf that Peeta shuffles into an orderly stack and holds so she can no longer see the vibrant swirls of color.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug. "Came down on the destroy list. This may not be what they had in mind, but everyone here is on their break or just came off their shift, so they can't complain about how long it takes. And the paper is being rendered useless, so I figured what the hell."

Thresh pauses in his scrawling of what looks like complicated math equations to say something to Johanna, and her head tips back in laughter. The soft morning light casts a strange glow over the scene and Katniss can't help but feel…peaceful.

"Care to join?" he asks, a playful sparkle in his eyes.

"Can't," she says, and she sounds almost as disappointed as he looks. "My shift starts in a few minutes."

Peeta smiles wryly and nods. "Yeah. I can save a few sheets for you if you want. For your lunch break."

"I'd like that," she tells him with a small smile and a wave as she heads inside. When the door shuts behind her, blocking out the sunshine on the back dock, she suddenly feels drained. And her shift has only just started.

* * *

"So what method did you choose for destroying your stack of printer paper?" Peeta asks as Katniss swings herself up on a bar stool next to him. It's trivia night at Ripper's and their coworkers are crowded around a table arguing over a golf question. Katniss has no interest in squabbling to be heard when she knows an answer or feeling inferior when she doesn't.

"Oh you've crossed a line now," she teases before giving her drink order to the bartender.

Peeta chuckles and sips his own, his fingers swirling patterns in the condensation on his glass.

"What method did you choose?" she diverts attention from herself.

"Destruction by Flowers," he says with a straight face. "A rendering in Crayola knock-off markers and ink pen."

"You drew flowers?" she asks, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Yeah," he holds her gaze. His eyes are earnest and intense. "Not my best work, but supplies were limited."

"What are you, some kind of artist?"

Peeta chuckles and looks away, a blush spreading over his cheeks and Katniss realizes how judgmental that must have sounded. She shifts on the bar stool and tries to backpedal.

"I majored in journalism," she admits before hiding behind her drink, which has thankfully just arrived. He glances at her before turning his body to face her more fully. A tentative smile flirts with his lips as she rambles on. "And I'm tired of job hunting."

He nods slowly and draws a finger up his glass. The motion is innocuous, but Katniss clenches her thighs together, against the ache forming and the memories of what she did to herself just last night. Or rather, the memory of who she was thinking about when she did that.

Her half-assed apology seems to relax him, and they fall into easy talk of their multiple jobs, then their future plans. He tells her that he actually majored in English and the art is a hobby, not a profession, but the English degree usually gets the same tepid response.

At one point, her phone vibrates and she checks it to find a text from Prim. As she taps out a response, she can feel Peeta's gaze on her.

"Sorry," she says as she pockets the phone. "That was my little sister."

"You two close?"

"Very," she answers with a confused look. "Why do you ask?"

"Your face went all soft and smiley. Much more inviting than your usual scowl."

This just makes her scowl at him and he chuckles. But then he disarms her by asking more about Prim, and soon they're swapping silly sibling stories and taking turns asking each other mundane questions that somehow feel insanely intimate with Peeta…such as _What's your favorite color_?

At one point, Peeta looks across the room and cringes. "Um, it looks like everyone else left…"

"What?" she asks and pulls her phone out to check the time. "Shit! It's past midnight? I have to be in early tomorrow."

She stands and waves to the bartender so she can pay her tab. Peeta offers to share a cab with her again, and she agrees. When they reach her apartment, Peeta gets out first and helps her from the taxi.

The rough feel of his calloused fingers on her palms sends shivers up her arm and she tugs her jacket more tightly around her shoulders to ward off the late September chill.

"See you tomorrow, then, Katniss," he says before climbing back in the cab. And she notices that the car idles on the curb until she's safely inside her apartment.

* * *

It's the alcohol, she tells herself as his lips trail over her neck and she tries not to climb the wall behind her. The sounds of the party fade into the distance as she focuses on breathing and not crying out with how good she feels.

He palms her breast with one hand, his other flattened on the wall next to her head. His fingers rove over the silky halter top she changed into after work. The shirt she can't wear a bra with and tore off her body three times before finally yanking it back on, telling herself that she was entitled to dress how she wants, and it has nothing to do with the tremors low in her gut every time Peeta Mellark smiles at her.

She's still not sure how she ended up with Peeta's hands and lips on her, backed against a wall in the rear hallway of the house Peeta shares with Thresh and two guys she hadn't met until tonight. What were their names again? Oh god, who cares as long as he keeps doing that thing with his tongue.

And as he starts to suck and nip at her earlobe, she's got no intention of stopping him. His hand drops from the wall and skims down over her shoulder and arm, skipping to her belly and hips until his fingers grip her thigh, hitching it up around his waist. Condensation still remains on the tips of his fingers from his earlier beer, raising goose bumps along her bare leg. She gasps at the cool sensation in contrast to the heat of his palm and that of his hand through the satin shirt.

Clinging to his shoulders, she starts to pant, biting back whimpers because his mouth feels so good on her skin and then he's thrusting softly into her, his cock hard and raising the zipper on his jeans. She almost squeals at the relief the friction provides, but immediately finds herself grinding against him, seeking more.

"You and those pants," he whispers in her ear. "I've been drooling over your ass in those pants for weeks. Months."

His voice rumbles in her mind and crotch as she dry humps him, mindless to anything but the feel of his breath in her ear and the desire he's stoking between her legs.

"And these shorts. God, I want to know what's under these shorts." He sucks on her ear again, his tongue dipping into the delicate flesh as Katniss races after the feeling coiling inside her. His fingers pluck at her nipple, the torsion combining with the silky fabric to produce a heady feeling that has her moaning his name.

"How wet are you right now, Katniss? I need to know."

"So wet," she gasps out, her face immediately heating at how cheesy that sounds, but Peeta just groans and thrusts harder against her until the coil snaps and…

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod," she mumbles, dropping her head to his neck and biting down on the bulge of skin and muscle at the juncture of his shoulder.

She shudders against him in release, nails digging into his arms.

* * *

Normally, she wouldn't lean over the counter this way, standing lifted on her toes so her ass is hiked up in the air. Except that earlier today, she walked into the back room and found Sarah Carter flirting with Peeta. Obnoxiously so.

For a moment, Katniss had gone almost dizzy with anger. She didn't understand the anger. She didn't have a claim to him…did she? Did she even want a claim to him?

It's been a week since the impromptu party at his and Thresh's house. He'd kissed her as she came down from her orgasm, his lips gentle on hers, coaxing a soft moan from her before he pulled away and called a cab to take her home, insisting they were too blitzed to be doing this. She thought it was a little late for that, although she'd been willing to blame alcohol for her wanton flirting and eagerness to have him between her legs.

When she'd clocked into work the next day, she'd been a bundle of nerves, utterly lost as to how to handle it. So as Peta approached her, she blurted out some mundane comment on the cooling weather and how ridiculous it was that they were already stocking Christmas stationary when October was only half done. He'd blinked and pursed his lips for a moment, and she thought she'd seen the barest hint of a blush spread across his cheeks or a flash of hurt in his blue eyes. But then it was gone, replaced with his usual sunny smile and a retort about extending sales to make the bottom line.

Neither one had mentioned that night since, instead falling back into their previous habits of easy chatting and the occasional destruction out back with his crew. And, of course, kicking ass at Ripper's foosball tables.

Katniss is tired of easy chatter with him. Every time he comes near her, her stomach twists in knots and her heart starts a race with her lungs to see which can unnerve her faster. As she watched Sarah's attempts to flirt with Peeta, she made up her mind.

She stopped pretending that nothing happened. Or that she didn't want anything to happen.

So when Peeta looked up and saw her, appearing more terrified than guilty, she gave him a lascivious smile and licked her lips. With Sarah's attention diverted momentarily by a passing coworker with a question for her, he'd mouthed the words _Help me_ to Katniss.

Smirking, Katniss had turned her back on him and sashayed away, blatantly swinging her hips for his benefit. Now, she wants to remind him once more about her ass and these pants he seems so partial to. In case he gets any ideas about shoving Sarah Carter against walls in the back of his house and grinding against her.

When Peeta walks behind the counter, pushing a dolly stacked high with new printers and fax machines for her stock, she laughs at Blight's joke and wiggles her rear slightly. There's a clang of metal hitting tile and she turns around to find Peeta looking at her heatedly, the boxes a little disordered from their sudden stop.

"Careful with those," she tells him. "They're kind of fragile."

Blight chuckles, but Katniss's insides twist when she sees the dark promise in Peeta's eyes.

* * *

She's stifling a yawn and dreaming of pajamas and a few slices of reheated pizza from her dinner last night as she walks out to her car. Once she's settled in the driver seat, she checks her phone. One message…from Peeta.

They'd exchanged numbers after that first night at Ripper's when they humiliated their coworkers at foosball. But until now, he hadn't contacted her, instead keeping their interactions to those that happened at work and at Ripper's, on the occasions everyone met up for drinks and venting.

 _PEETA [6:45 P.M.] Got any plans tonight?_

She stares at the message and bites her thumb nail, trying to decipher what it could mean and how she should respond. He could just be asking a friendly question. Or he could be leading up to another invite to Ripper's. Or it could be something entirely new.

 _KATNISS [7:03 P.M.] Hot date with reheated pizza and Netflix. You?_

Telling herself to play it cool and not read too much into that one tipsy night at his place or the look he gave her today, she buckles her belt and cranks the engine. She's searching for a good song on her battered iPod when her phone chimes with a text alert.

 _PEETA [7:05 P.M.] Pretty much the same. What do you have queued up to watch?_

Katniss shifts in her seat and shoves down the fluttering in her stomach. He's just being friendly, she tells herself. One drunken kiss does not a romance make.

Except they did more than just kiss…

She shuts down the greedy voice in her head that urges her to flirt with him and sends a simple response.

 _KATNISS [7:10 P.M.] Nothing spectacular. Deciding between catching up on_ Parks and Rec _or rewatching a few episodes of_ Bones.

His next message comes much faster, as thought he was waiting for her to answer.

 _PEETA [7:10 P.M.] Sounds riveting. Care for some company?_

She tosses her phone in her cup holder and debates how to answer while she starts the drive home.

Does she want him in her apartment? _Yes._

Does she want to curl up on the couch with him and laugh over a TV show? _Yes. And YES!_

Does she want him to kiss her again? _Hell yes!_

She wants all of that and more. So when she gets stuck at a stoplight, she shoots back an answer.

 _KATNISS [7:18 P.M.] Sure. Bring something to go with the pizza._

When she gets home, she sends him her address then paces in her bedroom, debating what to wear. Normally, she'd slip into pajamas to watch TV, but with Peeta coming over…

Eventually, she changes into soft lounge pants and a baggy sweatshirt. She's second guessing her choice to wear lace panties and fingering her bra, also doubting her choice to go without one, when there's a knock on her door. She shoves her undergarments in a drawer and goes to greet him.

They chat amiably while they fill their plates and settle on the couch, agreeing on a few episodes of _Bones._ Once she's finished eating, Katniss sets her plate on the coffee table and curls up on the couch with her toes brushing Peeta's leg. As they progress through a few episodes, both keep shifting on the couch. Subtle movements of legs and hips and arms until she's leaning against his shoulder with his arm draped behind her on the back cushion.

When the episode ends, she turns to ask him if he wants to watch another and finds him staring at her. Their noses brush and she desperately draws air into her lungs. She blinks and watches Peeta do the same, marveling at how long and blond his lashes are. As they stare at each other, Peeta's eyes grow darker, the pupils expanding until there's only a small ring of blue around them.

Her heart thumps madly in her chest and she tries not to hyperventilate at his nearness. Her lungs burn with the effort and her palms itch to touch his cheek, his hair, his naked body.

Katniss leans in first, keeping her eyes open to judge his reaction as their lips come together. Peeta brings his hand up to cup her jaw and tug her closer. She's sinking into the depths of his gaze. Then their lips start to move together, soft brushes of warm flesh that make her think of flower petals and his drawings she finally caught a peek at one day at work. He has talented hands…

Peeta pulls back just a fraction of an inch and his breath puffs over her lips. She fights the intense feeling of loss at their absence.

"Katniss, what are you doing on Friday?"

She shakes her head to try and clear the haze of desire, unsure why he's asking that. Peeta drops his lips to her jaw and peppers kisses there, up to her ear where he whispers to her.

"Can I take you out for dinner?"

"Peeta," she moans as she runs her hands up over his chest, shifting her body to straddle him. "You don't have to ask me out because of what happened at the party."

"I'm not," he says, dropping his head back on the couch cushions to look up at her. "I'm asking because I want to. If you'll allow it."

Katniss worries her bottom lip between her teeth and wriggles her hips. His hands grip her and hold her still, his gaze open and honest.

"I'm not asking because I'm thinking about all the ways I want you to ride me. Or because I can't stop wondering what you taste like. Although, I do have those thoughts. I'm asking because I like being with you. I love hearing you laugh and watching your face swing between scowling and smiling. And when I wake in the morning, I can't wait to hear what sarcastic thing you'll say to me that day."

She tilts her head and considers him, suddenly feeling playful and a little devious. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she grinds down on him until he groans.

"And this? I suppose you'll want to be chivalrous and stop this until we go on our first date."

"I will if that's what you want," he says through gritted teeth, his hands tugging on her hips and letting her know he doesn't really want to stop.

Leaning down, Katniss captures Peeta's lips in a frenzied kiss. All teeth and little nips. She soothes the bites with her tongue before separating their mouths.

"I'll allow it."

"Allow what?" he asks, his eyes glazed and his voice ragged.

"Friday," she says simply. "And right now."

She squeaks in alarm as his hands grip her and flip them so they're stretched on the couch with her on top.

"You set the pace, then, Katniss."

Her stomach flutters madly and she bends over to rejoin their lips. At first, she thinks she'll want to go slow, but then Peeta's hands slip under her pants and knead her butt over the lace panties. He lingers there a few minutes while they continue the languid kiss, tongues dipping and tasting, sampling sighs and moans. He tastes a little sweet and she thinks she could kiss him forever; his mouth on hers only makes her need to taste more.

Then Peeta's hands tug her higher on him until his fingers slip under her panties and find her slit. Katniss moans into his mouth and jerks her hips against him. He swirls a finger in her wetness and then slides it inside her, curling and massaging a spot she's never thought to touch on herself before. His other hand slides up under her sweatshirt and cups her breast. He groans into her mouth when he finds her without a bra.

"Oh god, Peeta," she says against his lips. "I need you, now."

They're a flurry of tangled limbs and flying clothes as they make their way to her bedroom. She's got his jeans and underwear lowered and he kicks them off right before she pushes him down so his legs spread the corner of her bed, his feet on the floor and his white undershirt still on, but Katniss is beyond waiting at this point. Peeta tells her there's a condom in his wallet and she digs it out before she climbs over him. Taking him in hand, she strokes him a few times to make sure he's fully hard. Peeta's head falls back on her bed with a loud groan at her touch, but he lifts it again to watch her cover him with the prophylactic.

Katniss shoves her panties aside and sinks down on him with little preamble. Her chin drops to her chest as she draws in a shuddering breath before letting it out in a giant moan of relief. He stretches her walls and she's sure she's never felt so full before. Their hips are flush and the tip of him brushes a spot deep inside her. She's salivating at the thought of what that's going to feel like when she starts to move in a moment.

For now, Katniss fixes her eyes on his and watches as she clenches her walls around him, wanting to learn the feel of him inside her.

"Fuck!" he says. "You feel incredible, Katniss."

His hands light all over her. Stroking her legs, plucking at her breasts, caressing down her arms and then squeezing her ass, as though he wants to discover every inch of her skin and can't decide where to focus first. And she begins to move, rolling her hips over him.

Her mouth falls open at the sensations, already wound so tight from waiting, and now unleashed as her clitoris rubs the lace of her panties between them and his cock brushes that spot. She's hit from all sides by streaking need. Peeta's hands skim over her, sending brief pulses of heat under her skin wherever he touches. He finally settles them when she starts groaning in time with her movements, already so close. One hand rolls one of her nipples while the other one clenches her ass, helping her maintain the punishing rhythm she's set for herself.

Katniss rolls and rocks, Peeta's soft grunts and look of pure awe telling her that he's enjoying this too.

Her release dances within reach and then skitters away, making Katniss groan in frustration, and picking up on it, Peeta braces his feet so his cock hits the spot on her inner walls with a shade more force. She screams at the intense feeling that coils right behind her belly button, eyes wide and locked on his. For a moment, she sees his lips twitch with an almost arrogant look, but it's gone when she slips her hands under his shirt and digs her nails into his skin, replaced with a look of wonder and need.

Arching into her, Peeta switches his hands to pay attention to her other breast. She feels the tweaks in her core and rocks faster until her toes curl and the coil in her middle unfurls. White light blazes across her vision, replaced by flashes of pinks and yellow. She can't hold back the shout that is his name or the rush of liquid that leaves her, coating her panties and him.

Katniss is still shaking and spasming as he wraps his arms around her, levering himself up to sit and flip them over. Somehow, both her legs end up draped over his left shoulder. Peeta has that arm curled around them, keeping them in place, the right arm braced beside her head as he drives into her. Still dazed from her own release, she watches his face as it twists in bliss and his hips still.

She vaguely thinks she feels him pulsing inside her, not entirely sure if it's him or her walls still clenching in aftershocks. But she is intensely aware of the way her own name sounds on his lips and the clench of his fingers in her comforter, right near her ear.

Then his arms give out and he collapses on top of her. But they're already perched precariously on the corner of the bed, and the movement sends them sprawling to the floor in a heap of sweaty limbs, rosy cheeks, and raucous laughter.

* * *

When she walks by him in the back rooms the day after their first date, she's careful to keep her expression as neutral as possible, absently running her hands over her work polo, although nothing could make the garment appear flattering.

"Peeta," she greets simply.

"Katniss," he says with a smile. But as she passes, she feels his hand squeeze her ass cheek. Just a little. The small gesture should piss her off since they're at work, but more than anything, it turns her on, and she promises herself that she'll make him pay when she sees him later tonight.

* * *

When she opens the door, Peeta's eyes go wide at the sight of her in nothing but a short robe, twirling the lace panties she wore their first night together on her finger. He swallows thickly and points.

"What are those for?"

"Come in and find out," she purrs.

As soon as he's inside and the door is shut behind him, she grabs his wrists, binding them with the panties and raising his arms. She loops the panties over the coat hook attached to the door and Peeta groans.

"Fuck, Katniss."

She steps back and admires her handiwork a moment before undoing and dropping his pants to pool around his ankles.

"Your roommate," he gasps as she drops to her knees and fondles his balls.

"Madge is out for the night. Again," Katniss says and takes him in her mouth.

She licks and sucks at him, moisture leaking out of her at the feeling of power his moans and careful thrusts against her face give to her.

"Let me touch you," Peeta begs, and she moans a denial around him, making his knees quiver.

She sucks him until he's banging his head against the door and chanting her name mingled with a string of curse words, coming in her mouth.

When she pulls her lips off him with a loud pop, he tears his hands from the door, bringing the hook off with him. The sound of ripping fabric fills the room as he snatches her up and carries her into the bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, Peeta shoves aside her robe, and dives between her legs like a man starved. He teases with tongue and lips for a few minutes, then works her into a fever pitch.

He doesn't let her go until she's squirming and screaming at him to let her come already. Peeta sucks her clit between his teeth one last time and she shatters against him in a brilliant flash of fire.

"You're radiant," he whispers as he shifts to hover over her. He softly kisses her then holds her close, rolling them so they can fall asleep.

* * *

"Peeta," she moans as his hand strokes her over her work pants. She juts her hips back into his, catching his erection between the cheeks of her ass as his hand comes up to cup over her mouth.

"Shh, Katniss. You have to be quiet," he commands in her ear, the hot puff of his breath causing shivers to skitter down her spine. "Are you ready for me?"

Biting into his palm, she nods frantically and braces her hands on the wall in front of her while Peeta tugs down her pants and his. He splays his other hand on her pelvis, fingers tantalizingly close to her aching clitoris. With a swift thrust, he's sheathed inside her and she squeals against his palm.

Peeta bends his knees, pulling them both lower and leaning them back until she's writhing against the pressure of him inside her. She grips the steel girders of the wall while he lifts his hips in deep, hard thrusts that he spaces apart so that she's eagerly anticipating the next one. Katniss screws her eyes shut, focusing on the feel of him moving in and out of her and honing in on the sounds of his breathing, trying to block out the noises of their coworkers on the other side of the shelves piled high with boxes that hide them from view.

He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, gently murmuring her name. The sound echoes and…wait…how does Peeta have three hands?

Her eyes fly open as she's jolted out of her dream and then her body goes rigid. She's in her bedroom, and Peeta's warm body is pressed against her back, his hand stroking her hair and his lips caressing the back of her neck. She squirms under his touch and feels him, half hard against her backside.

"Katniss," he says again and she groans, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. "You were having a dream."

"I know," she whines.

"Must have been a good dream, with the way you were moaning and moving against me," he teases and she buries her face in her pillow in mortification.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she says.

"Don't be," he whispers, his fingers toying with the waistband of her pajama pants. "I'd like to hear about this dream."

Her thighs clench and she feels how wet she already is. The words spill out of her in a rush and her face heats. They've been together for almost six months now, but they've never had sex in a public place, and certainly not at work. She's never wanted to. Been too shy about sharing the details of their bedroom exploits with anyone, let alone risked sharing it with the world. But she can feel Peeta growing harder against her the longer she talks.

When she finishes her description, she scrambles to untangle herself from his embrace and rushes to the kitchen, making excuses about needing a glass of water. She's gulping the frigid liquid down when Peeta comes up behind her and slides his hands around her.

"Madge is asleep," he whispers, dipping his fingers into her panties and spreading her arousal around and up to her clit. "Put your hands on the fridge."

His command sends a new rush of moisture leaking from her.

"Peeta," she whines.

"We're moving in together in a few weeks, Katniss. This might be as close as we're gonna get to your dream. And I want to make all your fantasies come true." He bites gently down on her ear and she braces her hands on the fridge door.


End file.
